


Nostalgic Amnesia

by metawasteoftime



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Character Interpretation, Ambiguous Gender, Dadster Sans, Drabble, Experimental, Gen, I still interpret Sans as Gaster, No Plot/Plotless, Noncanon Sexualities, Not Canon Compliant, Poor Sans, Sad, Sans Doesn't Remember Resets, Sans Is Gaster, Sans Needs A Hug, based loosely on a theory, extremely short, short fic, the Dadster Sans part I mean, time displaced sans, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:26:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metawasteoftime/pseuds/metawasteoftime
Summary: Trapped in the present, a weary sentry longs to return to his past as Dr. Gaster and mourns the future and memories taken from him again and again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really old fic. For some reason, I never posted it until now.
> 
> The untranslated symbols below is just the title of the story in all-caps wingdings.

 

There are many things that one does not fully appreciate until it is gone.

A home that could be returned to.

( _even his children and his children’s children have grown senile with age and turned to dust centuries before the fallen scientist greets the human in the forest_ ).

A future that can’t be undone for the entertainment of… _something_.

( _pictures always were the easiest items to extract from dead and gutted timelines, and also the most painful_ ).

Memories that weren’t at constant risk of being erased at the whim of said something.

( _he’s collected enough photos from home to make an album out of them that he doesn’t, can’t, remember being taken; there is a child’s drawing with his own handwriting on it, but he can’t even remember writing the words “don’t forget”_ ).

  
.

.

.

 

( _no way forward; no way back; no point in even trying_ ).

Exhausted by grief dulled by time and an empty existence, the monster who renounced his name and title long ago sleeps and dreams of home.

He wonders if any of the things he experiences there are pieces of lost memories.

( _he holds his spouse in his humeri for the first time in an eternity. It’s only been two days for them, but they hold him through the night almost as tightly, whispering promises to never let–)_

The former Royal Scientist who chose the new name of Sans stirs awake surrounded by snow and the smell of pine.

The distant sound of children laughing echoes in his skull.


End file.
